Hostile(50)

He lifts his head enough to meet my eyes, and I see all the unasked questions there. Instead, he asks, “When you asked me, did you mean a date?”

My chest aches at the question because I want to date Rhett. I really want to date him. But I know it’s not possible.

He buries his head in my chest, not making me answer. “Is it okay if I go?” My voice sounds weak, but damn it, I’m weak for him.

I don’t care.

I feel him smiling now. “You don’t need my permission.” His eyes meet mine again. “And yeah, it’s okay. Have normal high-school fun. One last time, right?”

I nod, my chest burning with the ache again, thinking about the end of high school. I just found him, and it won’t be long before I have to give him up. “I guess.” I poke his side playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “You know you could conform just a tiny little bit. Go to prom. Let me get you all happy and shit. Dancing to awful songs with people you can’t stand. Go to a lame party afterward where we’re all drunk and stupid.”

“You want to take advantage of me? You really don’t need prom for that,” he teases.

“Hell no. I want you to take advantage of me.” I kiss his nose. “Do all the dirty things to me.”

He grins and climbs onto my body, grabbing my arms and pinning them to the sides of my head. “Why wait?”

I laugh, and he does too. “Agreed.”

I lean up as he leans down, meeting in the middle for a hot kiss, as we both grow hard again, needing each other in ways we can’t say.

It’s enough for now. I just need to focus on the right now when I’m in Rhett’s bed, wrapped up in him.





THIRTY-THREE





“Jesus, Bree. This is really damn stupid.” I look at her in her orange dress with the lily corsage on her wrist.

“It’s not stupid. Going to a baseball game was stupid. This . . .” she sighs and fixes the stupid-ass bow tie around my neck. “This is our last high-school experience together. And I think it could be fun.”

I quirk an eyebrow at her, shocked by this development. She’s never wanted to do anything considered a typical high-school experience, but when I told her about prom and Grayson asking me, apparently, she’s very into the idea. “I know what you’re doing.”

She shrugs. “So shut up and thank me.”

I smile and kiss her temple. Blair was beyond excited when Bree told her Fletcher, Bree, and I wanted to go to prom. Of course, Blair went beyond crazy, buying Bree jewelry, heels, a dress, and then taking her for a makeover today. She tried like hell to get Fletch and me to come too—for what, I’m still not sure--but we did allow her to pick out tuxes for us.

Fletch looks pretty good in a white tux and black tie with his hair styled. There wasn’t a girl in the gym who didn’t salivate when they saw him tonight. In fact, I think the entire school was staring in stunned shock at the three of us when we walked in.

And it wasn’t my imagination. Bree and Fletcher felt it too. “Jesus, should we have made a formal announcement that we’d be here tonight or something?” Bree asks, making Fletch and me laugh. We both have our arms linked with one of hers and guide her in.

“This was your idea, Bree Bree,” I say as I search for Grayson.

“This was your boyfriend’s idea, Rhetty,” she whispers, leaning in next to my ear, and I laugh, liking entirely too much the sound of the term “boyfriend” being applied to Grayson.

I can’t.

I need to stop doing that.

I see him across the room, his eyes over here, but he’s busy dancing with a girl from our class. Crystal, I think is her name. Her hands are all over him, sliding over his back and up his broad shoulders as he keeps his hands on her hips. His eyes meet mine, and I see them light up with surprise, but he doesn’t stop dancing with her.

Which . . . duh. Of course, he doesn’t. He’s here with her. He needs everyone in his friend group to think that, I’m sure.

I sit down at one of the tables decorated in some ridiculous theme I don’t get, suddenly feeling defeated and stupid. Bree sits down next to me as Fletch says something about saying hi to a girl he knows.

I don’t even point out that he probably only “knew” her for a few seconds or will, if he hasn’t already hooked up with her. He leaves, and Bree nudges my foot under the table with one of her high heels. “What’s wrong?”

“This is stupid. I told you that already, Bree. I don’t fit in here, and he’s . . .” I motion to where he’s busy in his big group of friends, his hands still on Crystal. “He’s having fun. He’s fine here without me.”

“You’re being an idiot again,” she says in true Bree fashion.

“How?”

She sighs softly, shaking her head at me and propping her elbow on the table, resting her head on her hand. “Rhett, you guys agreed not to tell anyone. You told him you weren’t coming. What do you want him to do? Rush over here and sweep you up? Say, ‘fuck it all’?”

Kind of. Which yes, I know it’s stupid because I’m the one who’s been totally fine with him not telling anyone. But now, as I watch Crystal smooth a hand over his cheek, I feel rage bubble up inside me which I don’t understand. “No.” I shake my head. “It’s stupid. This is stupid. I shouldn’t be here.”